


Viscaria

by DiviinePillar



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Multi, scratch that lots of hurt, this is my first work please dont kill me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:15:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiviinePillar/pseuds/DiviinePillar
Summary: When Ren Amamiya was shipped off to Tokyo for his probation, he assumed he was in for a tedious year at some prep school as a mere fly on the wall. It would seem he was wrong on exactly one count: This year was going to be anything but normal. When he transfers into Shujin Academy only to immediately come face to face with the cruelest aspects of humanity, he had to make a decision on how he was going to go about his probation.Well, one thing was certain: He didn't keep his head down then, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Kurusu Akira/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Persona 5 Protagonist/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, a few other ships later on
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Viscaria

**Author's Note:**

> Well hi there! I don't really write all that often, but a royal rewrite has been on my mind for ages now. So here I am: A fanfic that I will hopefully continue to update. So.. I hope you enjoy!

When Ren Amamiya boarded the express train that morning, he was a lone existence in a sea of faceless suits on their way to _somewhere_ in the world. Muted grey skies dripped with the promise of an incoming deluge, pregnant with the somber mood that often accompanies a typhoon. As he swayed from side to side to the rhythmic groans of mechanized locomotion, though, he felt nothing. He was empty inside, hollow and rotted to the core after everything that _bastard_ had done to him. The putrid sneer painted across that _inebriate’s_ face, his sticky voice and swollen pride as he commandeered those spineless pigs, and the grabbing hands and cutting cuffs were sure to live in Ren’s mind until the day he died. 

Yes, adults were _vile_. The cabin whipped into pitch as the train ripped through the belly of the Hakkōda mountains, leaving Ren once again in the dark. Sighing as he unclenched his jaw, he leaned back against the wall and slid down into a seat. The woman next to him scowled in his direction, immediately scooting three seats over with a huff. _‘Well, fuck you too.’_ he thought, shooting a glare her way towards his fingers as he cradled his head in his hands. For all their preaching about _accountability_ and _heroics_ , it sure seemed like the older generation was completely devoid of such prospects. Lofty ideals never did anything for those who had been trampled upon, after all. Why, here he was as a shining example of the delinquent youth: how _dare_ he prevent the status quo? There was no _place_ for morals when it stood in the way of the powerful! It never did anyone good to be the nail that sticks out, he should have _known_ that at his age. Pitiable as it may be, he had _asked_ for this. So here he was, on a cursed ride to reformation because he dared to stick up for someone who had needed his help. They had called it an act of kindness, a way to reform a problematic child into a well-adjusted cog in the machinery of ignorance that pervaded society’s every corner.

Their ‘compassion’ made him _sick._

The _victim_ hadn’t even bothered to show his face at the trial, only sending his overly performative stooge to sentence yet another to a life with no future. Of course, his words meant nothing to the courts: he was a _child_. Upon his return home, he could feel the venom in his mother’s gaze as they drove back in her sedan. There was no need for words, not when she had already stabbed him a million times over with the knives of her stare. On her way out, she slammed the door and pushed inside without a single remark, leaving her son alone and broken in the rain. Walking inside the cold and dark halls felt akin to walking toward a noose, his executioner being his fate shoving him along to his doom. His father simply shook his head upon seeing his son enter, not even giving him the privilege of eye contact. 

_“I’m done with you and your problems, brat. Once you get on that train, don’t even try coming back until you can mind your own damn business.”_  


_“I just wanted to do what was right..!”_  


_“Just shut up, you little shit! This is what happens when you are a pain in the ass!”_

It was as if the world flashed into nothingness as his father’s slap knocked him to the side. He barely grabbed hold of his bearings before his father kicked him in the knees, sending him face first into the cold and hard floor. He could only squeeze his eyes shut and brace himself for what he knew was coming next. The blows to his gut were constant, with each kick being accentuated with a different imagined slight he had done in the past being growled down at his cowering form. He felt his father step on his ribs that night, with the ghastly sound of cracking bone living sure to live within his memory for the rest of his days. The pain didn’t stop until well into the night either, with Ren’s stomach feeling like it had been crushed beneath the weight of a semi-truck one thousand times over. Attempting to get up had been futile, what with how slick the blood-coated floor had become. He knew because he had tried that. Falling flat on his face in a puddle of his own blood was definitely far from a highlight in the train wreck that was his life, that’s for certain. Whether it was mainly blood or tears that coated his face that night, he couldn’t tell you. 

Some things were best left forgotten, in his experience.

Slowly exhaling, he raised his head in an effort to escape the torturous memories his subconscious was bombarding him with. The window only held darkness beyond its glass, and if his estimate was correct, it would be quite some time until the train escaped the dark bowels of the mountains. Looking around the train car wasn't a good idea either, not unless he was dying to get another glare from miss Better-than-you for the umpteenth time today. Clearly his attempts to calm down and think through his new normal were pointless as well, seeing as the only place that left him was in a cocktail of anxiety and pure spite. Perhaps it was best to rest his eyes, then, regardless of the consequences. It wasn’t as if anyone would care about a criminal like him disappearing into the void, after all. As he leaned back into the moquette, he could have sworn he had seen some sort of white butterfly perched atop the baggage shelves, yet a simple blink revealed it to be an illusion. _‘What on earth..?’_ He cocked his head to the side, staring at the empty space where the insect had landed a second ago. The old woman from before coughed, before whispering something to the man on her right while not-so-subtly glancing his way. _‘I’m just going to ignore that.. Nasty old gossip.’_ Shaking his head, he attempted to free himself of whatever _that_ was. The stress of the situation must have been finally getting to him, it would seem.‘Maybe I need this nap more than I thought..’ With a final sigh, he rested his chin upon his now crossed arms and allowed himself to be enveloped in the numbing embrace of sleep.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

,p.The first thing that had stood out to him was the weight constricting around his wrists, as well as his ankle. As his eyes snapped open, the second thing he was made aware of was his pressing need for a therapist. Ultramarine cushions lined concrete walls, accented by hanging chains swaying in the frigid breeze. A soft clinking of metal was accompanied by the dripping of liquid into more liquid somewhere on his left. A glance that way revealed it to be coming from what seemed to be a toilet affixed to the other wall in what appeared to be a cell. Upon sitting up, he looked down and confirmed that the familiar weight biting at his wrists were indeed handcuffs. He could only sigh as he rested his head in his hand and attempted to sort out the messages his mind was sending him. _‘Am I really so mentally screwed up that even my dreams are about being imprisoned?’_ His musing was interrupted by the condescending chuckle of.. A child? Looking out past the bars, he was greeted with the sight of a young girl in warden’s clothing. Before he could really take a good look and ponder what kind of nightmare he was having, another almost identical girl stepped out and stood mirrored to her twin. For some odd reason, his mind chose that moment to recall the strange butterfly, yet he wouldn’t allow such idle thoughts to linger in this utterly _bizarre_ dream. _‘Well, might as well try and get some answers out of these Grady twin wannabes.’_ His attempts to walk forward were swiftly met with resistance, courtesy of the massive weight attached to the chain on his ankle. Stereotypes pervaded his dreams too, apparently. With a bit more purpose in his step, he managed to make his way to the prison bars at a slightly reduced pace. The twins turned away from him before he could speak, however, directing his gaze to what was quite possibly his sleep paralysis demon given flesh.

“Trickster.. Welcome to my Velvet Room.”

The creature staring at him with soulless white eyes and a beak-like nose stretched out a single bony hand as he uttered the phrase in a deep rumbling voice. He was perched on a chair, behind an elaborate mahogany desk in the center of what was now very clearly a prison. The ring of cells surrounding the center were emitting some sort of blue fog, making the place all the more eerie. 

“What the hell..?!” The curse slipped out without much of a thought, what with how horrifying this nightmare was shaping up to be. Little ears be damned, this wasn’t the time for the proper forms. His rattling on the bars was quickly met with a sharp sting, as one of the twins of terror slammed her very real baton against his enclosure. 

“So you’ve come to, Inmate. Great to see that you have the manners of a dirty animal too.”  


“The you in reality is currently fast asleep. You are only experiencing this as a dream, so please refrain from such behavior in front of our master.”  


“Stand up straight!”

Obeying the commands of the twins, he turned his attention toward the other presence in the room. “Welcome, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.” The elderly man was far more pleasant than the child with the buns, so perhaps it was best to direct his questions that way for now. “What is this place? Is it a prison?” He asked, stealing yet another glance at his surroundings. The mean child shot him a dirty look after catching him in the act, yet this was quickly forgotten when the man spoke up once again. “This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those who are bound by a ‘contract’ may enter. I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember it well. I summoned you to speak of important matters, it involves your life as well.” Ren’s eyes widened upon hearing this, a chill racing to the very core of his being. Something was beginning to tell him that this was a bit more than just a dream. “..Important matters, are you shitting me? Let me out.” 

The crackling of the mean one’s baton smacked against the iron bars, with Ren just barely managing to let go before he too was fried by its discharge. “Know your place, Inmate! Who do you think you’re talking to?!” The sheer rage in the girl’s eyes was made even more terrifying by the fact that she was armed. He shot her a glare of his own, at least while he was safe behind bars. 

“Still, this is a surprise.. The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as much.” Igor looked around the room, seemingly amused by the circumstances. Chuckling, he looked back at Ren before folding his hands once again. “You truly are a “prisoner” of fate. In the near future, there is no mistake that ruin lay waiting for you at every turn.”  
“..Ruin? Are you kidding me?” 

Igor chuckled yet again, mirth evident in his glowing white eyes. “Worry not. There is a means to oppose such a fate, should you accept it.”

“And what would these “means” be?” He was skeptical of this strange dream demon, but he’d had enough of ruin within the last year. At this point he’d rather be safe than sorry.

“You must be “rehabilitated”. Rehabilitated toward freedom, that is.” Igor’s hands were folded in front of his face, his long ghoulish nose peeking out from behind them. “That is your only means of avoiding further ruin.” He reached down into a drawer in the desk then, the feather pen floating over to Ren’s cell as the man continued. “Do you have the resolve to challenge the distortion of the world?” He pulled out a single sheet of paper, which also made its way over to Ren. It appeared to be some sort of contract, though there was nothing more than a signature block provided on the paper. _‘I’d rather avoid ruin..’_ he thought, signing his name with the strange magic quill he’d been so courteously provided by Igor. 

“Excellent.. The contract has been sealed. Please allow me to observe the path of your rehabilitation.” The contract disappeared into thin air once Igor spun it in his spindly fingers, before he once again turned to Ren. The two twins then turned around toward him, once again. _‘Great. More baton action from the queen of temper tantrums. Utterly fantastic.’_ He thought, taking a single step back before once again being brought out of his mind by his host. 

“Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others. To your right is Caroline; to your left, Justine. They serve as wardens here.” The mean twin, Caroline, was first to speak after an indignant huff. 

“Try and struggle as hard as you like.” The quieter twin, Justine, was next to speak. “The duty of wardens is to protect inmates. We are also your collaborators: that is, if you remain obedient.” It seemed as if they spoke their piece, as the two of them swiftly turned away from Ren yet again.

“I shall explain the role of these two once you are settled in your new abode.. But for now, you must return to the reality from which you came. Take your time to come to understand this place, for we shall surely meet again.” The last thing he was aware of was the ringing of a prison siren, before darkness took him yet again.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gasping, his eyes snapped open only to be immediately assaulted by the bright lights of the city. An automated voice message confirmed that he hadn’t missed his stop in Shibuya, but that was quickly brushed aside in favor of the much louder conversation two girls were having in front of him.

“What? Are you for real? A “mental shutdown”?” A girl with long brown hair was smiling at her friend, unaware of just how loud she was being. “It’s the truth!” her friend shot back, a playful smirk on her face as she continued on at the same volume level. An older man looked up from his newspaper towards the two, rolling his eyes before once again burying his head in the papers. “Yeah, but to a person, though? Hah, that’s gotta be a joke!” The long haired girl was full on laughing now, and Ren lost interest. 

_‘What on earth was that “Velvet Room”? What did Igor mean by ruin?’_ His thoughts were all over the place for the remainder of his ride, as his mind was consumed with vague forecasts of an undesirable future. He was almost bowled over by the swarm of locals on their memorized highways upon escaping the confines of the train car as well. A muscular man nearly shoved him onto the tracks, for goodness sake. As he struggled through the humid crowd of endless people, he could only breathe a deep sigh of relief upon finding his exit from the station. He gave a weathered glance toward his phone, before pulling up his map and beginning the long trek to Yongen Jaya. 

The sidewalk was marginally less crowded than that godforsaken subway, yet he still found himself getting shoved by the occasional businessman as he stalked through the sweltering streets. A street vendor was perched outside just about every store he passed, and he could only idly note just how voracious the Tokyo market was. After passing beneath a bridge and noticing he had reached the famed Shibuya Crossing, he could only stare wide-eyed at the organized chaos that was the flock of people walking across the street. _‘This is going to take some getting used to.’_ He took a single step back, gulping nervously as he prepared himself to dive back into the fray, but quickly found himself nearly knocked over as some man on a phone shoved past him. As he dove to catch the phone that was knocked out of his hand oh-so-kindly by that Tokyo local, he noticed a strange pop up obscuring the map he’d brought up. Groaning, he did his best to close the thing yet for some odd reason his phone wasn’t responding. _‘Damned lag.. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.’_ His train of thought was interrupted, however, by the sudden quieting of the world around him. Glancing up, he could only blink in disbelief at what he saw next.

It was as if time itself had crawled to a stand still.

He could only quizzically turn around, looking every which way as his heart began to race. Nobody was moving. As he continued to look back and forth, he finally spotted movement in the corner of his eye: A blue fiery being was burning just beyond him, seemingly appraising him from a distance. The two of them stared one another down for a good moment, the only sound being the crackling heat and snarls the creature let off. And then it was _gone._

He blinked. _’Okay. The first thing I’m doing when I get to my officer’s place is taking a nap.’_


End file.
